


Alan Primrose

by xxELF21xx



Series: Alan the Auto Memory Doll [1]
Category: Helix Waltz (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Violet Evergarden, Gen, Letters, Post-War, Slow Build, but this aint the case, listen i know VE has violet/gilbert, not alan/loire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 07:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18846217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxELF21xx/pseuds/xxELF21xx
Summary: Alan, and his journey to find out the meaning of "I love you".





	1. Pen & Paper

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Because VE has hurt me so much, I decided to transfer all my tears into this work! Please don't kill me.

The view from his room, it’s slightly breathtaking in an odd way.

 

The scratching of a pen against unrefined paper fills the air, slow and unsteady strokes croaking in the silence. He works hard, trying to grasp the pen with clumsy hands, words stilted and short.

 

_General,_

_The war…. I hear it is over._

_My wounds have healed significantly. I am now able to accomplish simple missions, and am ready for more difficult ones._

_Please, tell me your next orders._

 

_Ala--_

 

His fingers give way, causing the pen to roll and clatter shrilly on the floor. Gasping, he stares, face unnaturally blank. He shifts his gaze towards bandaged hands, doll-blue eyes empty of any emotion.

 

* * *

 

 

Sighing, the man steps off the motorcar, prim shoes crunching into the dirt road. ‘My, my,’ he sighs wistfully, ‘if only you could see this view, Loire.’

 

The smile on his face, pleasant and small, drops to reveal a solemn and pained expression. Grabbing his belongings, a small case filed with miscellaneous items, he trudges into the tiny hospital.

 

The door opens to reveal a petite nurse, tired. ‘Good morning, sire,’ she greets, and proceeds to explain the situation regarding the hospital’s only patient. However, her words fall away, a thick silence blanketing him, as his eyes fall upon a stagnant, perfect, doll.

 

The image of a torn soldier lies heavy in his mind.

 

‘.... Sir? Sire, the room is this way.’

 

He is rudely snapped from his thoughts by the restless nurse, and fumbles with the apology. As he turns to leave, he spies the eyes of the perfect doll, a deep cerulean, glinting blankly in the morning’s rays.

 

A loud _thump!_ causes him to pick up his pace, heart fluttering in its cage. The nurse behind him follows, heels dulling into the wood. He hasn’t even been in the hospital for five minutes and already, a tragedy has struck.

 

Throwing open the door, he rushes in. ‘Alan!’ He gasps, flinching at the struggling boy, whose legs were caught in a dangerous position twisted in the sheets. ‘What were you doing?’ He tries to keep the desperation out of his voice, and the resulting slightly loud exclamation causes Alan to look up at him.

 

Without moving a single facial muscle, Alan murmurs, ‘I was picking up the pen.’

 

He releases a deep sigh, bones rattling from the sheer relief. ‘Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?’ Mutely, Alan shakes his head. ‘Come, now, you’ve finally been allowed to be discharged from the hospital. Isn’t it wonderful?’

 

The boy gives him a dead look, as if he hadn’t recognized him.

 

‘Do you…. Remember me?’ He tries, almost hitting himself for missing introductions.

 

Alan nods his head minutely, ‘Viscount Juven Sakan. We’ve met twice before: once during a ball, and then just before the battle.’

 

Juven smiles, ready to step closer to him, but freezes at the next few words.

 

‘Viscount Sakan, where is the General? Is he safe? Why hasn’t he given me any orders yet?’

 

His hands curl into painful fists, fingernails cutting into flesh. ‘Ah, well,’ he stuffs his fingers into his jacket pockets, keeping his shoulders loose, ‘Loire said that I’m to bring you to Finsel. He wants you to live with his close relatives.’

 

Alan doesn’t give a clear indication that he’s understood the situation. ‘Is the General safe?’ He persists, voice lacking any sort of emotion.

 

Juven’s throat closes up, allowing himself to wallow in the stillness of the air. Alan’s eyes never leave him, glossy and still, much like the glass marbles he used to play with.

 

‘He’s fine, Alan.’


	2. Flames & Breeze

Just as they’re about to get onto the motorcar, Alan stops in his path, turning to look at the peaceful scenery outside. 

 

‘Alan?’ Juven questions, turning half of his body towards the boy, growing jittery when he fails to respond.

 

‘Lieutenant Colonel Sakan,’ Alan’s voice is a whisper in the wind, his own way of being “soft”, startles Juven. ‘Lieutenant Colonel, some of my belongings are missing.’ 

 

Even in the toneless voice, Juven imagines he hears a deep pain. 

 

‘What’s missing?’ He remains calm, turning to look into the sparse suitcase. ‘This was all we’ve found of your items…. Perhaps some scavengers got their hands on some of your things.’ A frown slips onto his face unknowingly, eyebrows creasing together.

 

Alan remains silent for some time, the dread building up in his shoulders -- a bad habit Loire could never train out of him, ironically -- ‘my brooch. The brooch that the General gave me. It’s missing.’

 

The way he phrased it…..  

 

‘I’ll keep an eye out for it, please don’t worry, Alan.’ The boy glances at him, pupils sliding fluidly to corner of his eyes, and Juven’s struck with the bloodied and wounded memory of the boy in war.

 

Licked by flames and stinking of rotting flesh, face marred and dirty, expression peaceful in the heat of battle. 

 

Hair rustling in the light breeze, hands empty of weapons and clothes clean, expression peaceful in the mid-morning sun. 

 

No matter what Alan might’ve been, Juven had promised to keep him safe and free. He’s not going to disappoint his friend. 

 

‘Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel.’

 

Lifting an eyebrow, Juven allows the cursed position to drench him in slick blood one last time before speaking. ‘I’ve quit the army, you don’t have to call me that anymore.’ 

 

Alan’s eyebrows furrow slightly, ‘oh,’ he murmurs, as if he’s been inconvenienced. ‘How should I address you….?’ 

 

A sly smirk slips onto his face, ‘President….. Has a nice ring to it, right?’ 

 

‘Alright, Viscount Sakan.’ 

 

Juven sighs, rolling his eyes at the boy’s playfulness. ‘I guess,’ he shrugs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come talk to me on [tumblr!](https://hunkjasontodd.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> come shout at me on [tumblr!](https://hunkjasontodd.tumblr.com)


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